


Hand Brakes

by thranarwhal



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: I Blame Tumblr, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, PWP, anon request, because everyone needs bike sex, michonne briefly mentioned, worst title ever cause who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thranarwhal/pseuds/thranarwhal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt from anon "Rick and Daryl go on a run and ride Daryl's motorcycle together... Things happen."</p><p>So uh yeah this happened...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand Brakes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys this is short and sweet and my first twd fic I've published, I plan to do more but yup this is short and pretty stupid so... Enjoy! :D

It started with a light goose to his sides. It caused him to jump, and he swore when he heard the chuckle coming from the man behind him.   
You would think that Rick Grimes of all people wouldn't mess with someone driving out in the woods where walkers could come at any second. You would think he was below that sort of game, and wouldn't risk himself or the other person and stop messing around.   
But Daryl Dixon knew it was different. Light hearted moments were hard to come by nowadays, and it warmed his heart hearing their leader chuckle. Even if it made him grip the handles tighter.   
But then he felt another goose to his sides, followed by more chuckling, and warm hands roving over his abdomen.   
“What d'you think your doing Rick?” Daryl asked as the hands kept touching his sensitive stomach, and he sucked in a breath when they roamed over his navel.   
“Ticklish, are we?” Rick breathed, and Daryl felt the scruff of a beard against the back of his neck, and a soft kiss placed there.   
“You know Damn well I am Grimes. Keep your hands to yourself or you’ll get us both killed.”  
More chuckling. “You’re a good driver Daryl, I have faith in you.”  
The hands continued, teasing up over his chest and through his vest, unbuttoning his shirt and dipping into it. The warm large hands burned against Daryl’s skin, and he could feel heat spreading through him from them fast. Then one of the fingers brushed against a nipple, and he swerved slightly at the suddenness of it. Talk about spreading heat through his body.   
He could feel himself getting aroused, how unfortunate it was. He was in the worst possible situation, driving on cold bumpy roads with walkers lurking around, and getting a hard on while managing to keep the motorcycle he was driving straight.   
“Rick if you don’t stop we won’t make it back to the prison, and we both know Michonne will have our heads if we don’t come back in one piece.” Daryl tried, but it was ignored if the roaming hands ceasing to stop told him anything.   
But it seemed as though Rick considered it for a second, because the hands pulled away to rest at his hips where they started.   
“I guess you’re right.” Rick drawled in his low accent. “But I can’t leave you with this all the way back to the prison.” And he preceded to rub his fingers over the half hard bulge in Daryl’s pants.   
If he had a problem driving before, it was nothing to this. The unexpected touch startled him and he swerved again. He got control over it, but the the tingling heat from his cock wasn't dissipating. If anything, it was hardening. And Rick knew it.   
He kept drawing light circles over Daryl’s bulge with his index finger, just barely grazing. It was enough to get Daryl frustrated, and he growled at Rick.   
“If you’re going to get handsy with me Grimes,” He stumbled out, “You better get on with it.”  
That prompted the unzipping of his pants, and while Daryl sighed with relief, he tightened with tension too. At the rate he was driving with these feather light touches, he was sure to drive them into a ditch with a real hand job.   
Daryl gasped and pushed forward into the warm grip the surrounded his cock, and Rick steadily pumped him from behind as they surged on through the interstate. The cold air was piercing to Daryl’s skin, and the contrast of the cool wind and Rick’s hot hand on his cock was almost painful, but Daryl loved every second of it. The almost too tight, too hot grip kept him right where Rick wanted him, and Daryl struggled to keep a clear mind while he was driving.   
“You’re doing so well.” He heard Rick whisper in his ear as he bit on the ear lobe and licked it.   
That, combined with faster strokes had Daryl panting in no time. It almost seemed as if Rick had timed the strokes with the roar of the engine, and if there were two things Daryl loved in his world the most, it was Rick and his damn bike.   
He could feel himself coming closer to the edge, Rick smearing his precome over his fingers and using it to stroke him harder and faster. And despite how much he tried, his focus became clouded as Rick began to bite on his neck and growl, rubbing his hard on against Daryl’s ass. It all became too much at once, and before Daryl could do anything about it, he threw his head back onto Rick’s shoulder and came with a groan.   
His hands reached back to grab onto Rick’s thighs without him even knowing before he thought about the consequences. Luckily Rick anticipated it, and grabbed onto the handles and steered them onto the side of the road to stop for a bit.   
Daryl’s release was smeared across the metal of his bike and a few drops made it onto his pants and leather, and he grimaced at the sight. Just more for him to wash.   
But when he turned his head to look at Rick, he adored the smug smile on the man’s face. His cheeks were flushed and his black curls a mess from the wind, but he looked happier than he had in a long time.   
“Proud, are you?” Daryl asked, still breathless from the ordeal.   
“Very.” Came the smug response.   
Daryl huffed, but leaned back into the strong chest of Rick’s and caught his breath for a few more minutes, registering that rick was still hard against his back.   
With new found enthusiasm, he got up and started the motorcycle again. Rick gave him a questioning look, but he merely returned the smug look and drove back onto the interstate.   
“It’s your turn Sheriff.”


End file.
